


The Man of the House

by terri_testing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terri_testing/pseuds/terri_testing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dumbledore believes in second chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man of the House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Swythyv](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Swythyv).



 

« _Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardoner.»_ French proverb, translation: “ _To_ _understand all is to forgive all.”_

 

Well, perhaps not all.

_*_

 

“You’ll be the man of the house today, Albus,” said Papa.

Mama regarded Papa with a little frown. “Val, I’m really not comfortable with this. Ten is young for that much responsibility. Maybe I should send your sister’s house elf back….”

Albus stared at Papa in horror. A house elf to mind him, like he was a _baby_? Papa laughed at his expression. He ruffled Albus’s hair and told Mama, “It’s only for a matter of hours. They’ll be fine. Remember, Siggy constantly monitors the Floo and can find you within a minute, my love.   Or the elf could Apparate here at once and fetch you later, if there were really an emergency. And Albus, _you_ remember: if anything goes wrong, anything at all, you Floo-call your Aunt Elaine’s at once. Or if you need anything, or if your brother or sister disobey you. At once, you understand.”

Albus nodded vigorously, his head raised proudly. He was in charge today!

Papa looked back at Mama. “My love, be reasonable. Al can summon you more quickly from the Manor than if you were physically here.   You never take into account how quickly house elves react. You wouldn’t hesitate to brew for an hour or two, would you, leaving Al to mind the others? This is hardly different.”

Mama pursed her lips like she wanted to argue more, but then she tilted her head in agreement. Papa smiled at her. Then Papa gave Ari and Ab quick hugs. Albus got a grave man-to-man nod. “Take good care of them, Al.” With a quick mutter, Papa stepped into the Floo and was gone to work.

Mama lingered a moment more. “Siggy will bring you a nuncheon around noon. If you get hungry later, you may have fruit or bread-and-butter—the biscuits are warded, so don’t even try. I should be back by tea-time. I’ve left some bread pre-sliced under a stay-fresh charm in the larder, Al, just in case; I’ll not have you practicing kitchen charms in my absence!”

Al bent his head, blushing. She was never going to let him forget about trying to heat the teakettle that one time. He hadn’t known that hot water, being choleric, needed more room and would fight for it!

But he knew that Mama was as proud of him as Papa. He’d heard them arguing over whether he would sort Ravenclaw, like Papa, or Slytherin, like Mama, next year when he went to school. Papa kept saying how smart he was and how advanced for his age; Mama talked about how driven Albus was to succeed.

“Yes, Mama,” Albus said obediently. “No kitchen charms.”

What he really wanted today was to read that book on blood magic and wards, anyway. When he wasn’t having to waste time looking after the babies.

He squirmed when Mama kissed him on the cheek. She turned to the others and gave them pecks too. “Now be good, and mind your brother.”

Then she was gone, and Albus was in charge.

 

He made them go to the library first. Albus knew he was supposed to make Abby and Ari practice their reading and writing for a while. Every day, Mama made them, but she didn’t have to make Albus. He did it every day without her asking; he liked it, and Mama and Papa kept telling him how good he was. Latin, Greek, Hebrew, runes, and he was just starting on Sanskrit and Arabic, two days a week. Papa had found a Floo-tutor and some books. And Albus knew spells in all of them.

Well, sort of knew.

Ari and Abby, however, were only on English and Latin. And Ari was better than Ab, even though he was so much older. Her letters were straggly, but at least they were in the right order. When Abby wrote, he kept switching the letters around.

“No, Ab!” Albus told him. “It’s _Lumos,_ see, not sulom. Sulom isn’t even a word!” How stupid could some people be? But Albus didn’t say that part out loud. Abby blushed hotly and tried again.

And when Albus tried to make him read out loud, like Mama tried, Abby got his stubborn look and wouldn’t. So Albus let Ari read aloud instead, that stupid story that was Ab’s favorite. Albus could have read it in runes, but Ari had to read the translation. She was pretty good in English, though; she only had to ask for a couple of words. Only Ari asked Ab for help with the words, not Albus, like Abby would even know! “Ab, what word has f-r-o-l—”

“That would be frolic, probably. Or maybe frolicking—does it have a g?”

Albus hunched his shoulders and let them read that stupid Beedle together. _He’d_ read _his_ book.

Albus had found the book he wanted; there was a stinging hex on that part of the bookshelf, but he’d found he could get through that if he was willing just to let it hurt. So Albus read **Munimentum per Sanguineum** while Ari read Beedle to Aberforth.

What Albus was reading made sense, connecting blood to will to effects in the world. If only he had a wand, he could try some of it. Sometimes Mama or Papa let Albus try their wands, and sometimes when they did, everything just _connected_. What he read, and what he thought, and the words and the wand and the feeling, just flowed out of him.

Magic.

It was perfect when it happened.

That’s what it would be like all the time when Albus went to school, when he was in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, and then after, when he was grown up. It would be perfect like that all the time. He’d understand everything, and he’d wave his wand, and everything would happen just the way he meant. If only Albus had a wand, to have it be that way _now_!

Albus’s eyes narrowed; he glanced quickly at his sister and brother, still engrossed in Beedle.

Great-grandpapa Augustus’s portrait had said something once, when it was encouraging Papa to let Albus practice with Papa’s wand. He’d said, “This one has the true family spirit, Percival—this one can’t be trammeled or tamed! He shows far more of it than you ever did. He’ll restore the family name. Let him start on wandwork, the sooner the better. If you can’t afford Ollivander’s for the boy right now, there’s my second-best wand in my trunk yet, not broken at my death—”

Albus had heard something about why some wizards wanted more than one wand. Usually it was if they wanted to practice spells that were not—not Ministry-approved—so they could leave their main wand, their real wand, clean for viewing. Is that why Great-grandpapa Augustus had had a spare wand? Albus had been wondering about that ever since. And wondering about that trunk, and the second-best wand.

Most of the family portraits, trunks, and knickknacks had gone to Aunt Elaine. Because she was rich, Mama said; she’d married a Burke, and she had a house fit for Pureblood heirlooms. What Papa had inherited was mostly stuffed in the library and the attics. Including Great-grandpapa’s trunk, somewhere up there. With a wand in it.

Albus heard a popping noise from downstairs. He welcomed it. “Come on, you two, Aunt Elaine’s elf is here with our nuncheon!”

The two younger children raced downstairs yelling eagerly. Albus was hungry too, but he followed more slowly. He was still thinking about that trunk.

 

*

After eating, Ari and Ab wanted to go out and play in the garden. Albus trailed them out, carrying his book with him. Ari started swinging while Abby played with some squirrels; really it was almost like Ab could talk to animals sometimes. Albus plopped himself on his stomach, reading intently. But if only he had a wand, he could try some things…. His hand twitched, imagining the motions. He looked over at Ari and Ab. They were intent on their own pursuits. He would just be gone for a little while.

It didn’t take him long to find the trunk marked A.W.D. But he should have expected it to be locked. Frustrated, Albus gave the lock a kick. Then a thought struck him. Albus clattered down the stairs to the library. Where was Great-grandpapa’s journal? He paged through it for a few minutes and found what he’d thought he’d remembered. Albus stuck his head out of the window to check that the babies were fine, and then he scampered back up to the attic.

“Deathly hallows?” he tried. Then, “Peverell? Cloak? Elder wand? Antioch?”

At “Cadmus?” the lock slid open, and Albus’s eyes widened in surprise. He really hadn’t expected it to work; he just hadn’t wanted to give up without trying everything he could. Heart pounding, Albus reached out to grasp Great-grandpapa’s wand.

Green sparks shot out when he lifted it, so he knew he could make it work for him. Cautiously Albus cast a _Lumos_ just to test. The magic flowed through him, tingling, and Albis grinned. Actually this wand seemed to sit better in his hand than even Papa’s. Albus sat down cross-legged on the attic floor with the book, and started moving it while he mouthed some of the more complicated incantations. A cutting motion here—a hook—a circle to gather back the energy, as the words returned to the beginning chant…. Albus couldn’t fully work most of the spells, of course, but several times, triumphantly, he felt the magic coursing free.

 

*

 

Albus really hadn’t meant to lose track of time like this. He jumped up and stuffed Great-grandpapa’s wand inside his sleeve, and rushed down to check on the others. But when he reached the garden just Ari was there, playing with her dollhouse in the rose arbor. His brother wasn’t in sight.

“Where’s Abby?” Albus asked Ari. “I mean Ab. He was supposed to stay with you!”

Ari looked up from making the girl doll swoop around the house on her broom. Ari really wanted a broom like Albus’s; she was mad about being kept on a baby-broom. “Well, you were s’posed to stay with both of us, weren’t you? He went out. He saw Mrs. Moreton’s grey pony loose in the lane, and he wanted to catch it. Only I didn’t feel like running, so I stayed here.”

Albus snorted. “He wanted to go play with it, more like! If he’d wanted to catch it, he could have just called it to him! Even he could do that much. Stupid….”

Albus kicked at the arbor and scowled. Why didn’t his brother do like he was supposed to? Now Albus might be in trouble just because Aberforth messed up! But if he could find his brother in time, everything would be all right.

Albus had to find Abby before Mama got home, or he’d be in big trouble. Ari would be all right alone for a little while.

“Which way did he go, Ari? I have to go find him. Promise me you’ll stay here.”

 

*

Coming out of the lane, he asked a vaguely-familiar Muggle boy if he’d seen either his brother or Mrs. Moreton’s pony, but the boy hadn’t. So Albus tramped uphill, away from the village; that was more likely. It was hot walking in the sun, and Albus hadn’t yet bothered to learn the Cooling Charm.

Once he knew he was unobserved, Albus tried a Point-me for Aberforth; he’d read about the theory, but Albus couldn’t make it work. Albus stared at his grandpapa’s wand in disgust. What good was it to have magic, when no one bothered to teach him the spells that would actually be useful?

 

He’d hoped to spot Abby from the tallest hilltop, but he didn’t. After a little more traipsing around, Albus was tired and sweaty and ready to give up. He would be in so much trouble for letting Ab slip off like this. It didn’t even make him feel better to know that Abby would be in trouble too. Albus’s lip trembled a little as he remembered Papa telling him he was the man of the house.

But Albus at least had better be home when Mama came back. Maybe he’d get lucky, and Abby would make it home before Mama did, and then neither of them would be in trouble. Albus trudged homewards, trying to comfort himself by thinking that.

 

When he turned onto the lane leading to their house, he heard a distant ruckus. It sounded like a couple of boys yelling and someone crying. Only, it seemed to be coming from the direction of his house. Albus snatched out Great-grandpapa’s wand and broke into a run.

Albus ran and ran, wheezing. He practically fell through the gate. Why was it open? He had left it closed. Had Ari opened it?

The noise was coming from over near the rose arbor. Three Muggle boys were yelling at a thing on the ground. Albus vaguely recognized them. They had spied on him and Aberforth once when they’d been out playing by the stream, and later he’d played a few tricks on them. One of them was the boy who hadn’t known which way Abby had gone today. But how could they have gotten in through his papa’s Muggle-repelling wards? They shouldn’t even have seen the house, much less the gate.

Unless Albus’s messing about had weakened the wards. The book had said a blood relative could lower them. But he hadn’t _meant_ to do anything like that!

Albus raced across the garden, too out of breath to shout.

 

The tallest boy was yelling, “I knew there was something weird about this lane! How come I never even saw this house before? And what’s going on with your dolls moving, huh? Tell me that!”

The fat one spat, “And that time we saw your freak brothers fishing—they didn’t have a line or a net, and they were still catching them! And you, what were you doing with that robin, like you were talking to it! Freak! What’s going on? What _are_ you lot?”

The tall one added, “And your brother might be skinny, but a cat couldn’t have fit through that crack in Mrs. Cleeve’s fence. Only he did. And then he laughed and threw stones at us, only he wasn’t throwing them with his hands. Tell us how he did it!”

One of the Muggles aimed a kick. At Ari. At Ari! She was crouched whimpering on the ground between the boys, her arms over her head, and her dress was torn and dirty.

“Stop it!” Albus screamed, pointing Great-grandpapa’s wand at them.   _“Stop it!”_ All of his rage and terror surged out through the wand.

And they stopped.

 

They just fell over.

Had he stunned them, then? That’s what Albus should have tried to cast, a Stupefy, if he’d been thinking.

Albus ran up, gasping for breath. One of the boys had landed half on top of Ari, pinning her. She was crying and struggling under him. Albus pulled, but the other boy was heavy and inert, and Ari kicked Albus by mistake.

“Ow!” Albus yelped, and pushed at the boy instead. He managed to heave the bigger boy’s limp form off Ari; the boy landed face up on top of one of Ari’s dolls, and Ari curled around herself and sobbed.

The three boys lay silent and motionless. They weren’t stunned; their eyes were open and blank. Albus bent over the one he’d pulled off Ari, the fat one, and shook him a little. Ari’s doll, it was her mama doll, squirmed out from under the boy. It should have tickled him, or hurt maybe, but the boy didn’t react.

“You’re not hurt,” Albus told the fat boy, shaking him a little.

He didn’t answer. Albus shook him harder. “I didn’t hurt you!” The fat boy didn’t move.

Albus shouted, “Look, you’re not hurt. I didn’t do anything, I just stopped you! _Sit up!”_

The fat Muggle didn’t move. Albus dropped the wand and put his arm under the boy’s shoulder. When he lifted, he was able to make the fat boy sit up. But the boy’s head flopped, and when Albus let go, the stupid Muggle slumped right back down again.

Ari’s shrieking kept getting louder and louder in Albus’s ears.   Who could think with all that noise?

He grabbed the wand again and turned on her, screaming, “Shut up, _shut up, SHUT UP!_ ”

 

After a while he realized that she’d obeyed him.   It was very quiet in the garden; the wind whispered in the leaves.

 

His sister’s eyes were still screaming, but she didn’t make a sound, any more than those Muggles did. But she was shivering, not blank like them, and she could move. When Albus bent over her, she scrabbled away from him like she thought _Albus_ was the one who had hurt her.

Well, at least Albus knew what to do about _that_ ; he’d read about it. _“Obliviate,”_ he said.

When Ari opened her eyes, she looked confused and dazed for a minute. But then she saw the Muggles. She opened her mouth like she wanted to ask something and panicked all over again when she couldn’t. Her eyes went wide and terrified, and she tried to squirm away from Albus.

So Albus had to do it all over, but this time he knew to pull her away from the Muggles before she woke up. When her eyes opened this time, they didn’t quite seem to see right. He said quickly, “Ari, listen, you, um, fell, and your screaming was hurting my ears. So I cast a Silencing Charm on you, but I don’t know how to take it off now. So don’t panic that you can’t talk, all right? I’m going to—I’m going to Floo Mama now. Mama will be here soon.”

He patted her awkwardly and repeated, “Mama will be here soon.” Ari didn’t exactly seem to understand, but at least she didn’t fight him. She put her thumb in her mouth.

Mama had broken her of that habit two years ago, but Albus didn’t scold her. Instead he helped her to stand up and moved her into the house, making sure she didn’t turn and see those Muggles.

He settled her on the sofa and grabbed some Floo powder. “Grania Manor!”

 

But when Aunt Elaine’s house elf appeared Albus couldn’t seem to talk right. All he could do was whisper, “Mama? Please, ask Mama to come home now?”

 

When Mama Flooed through from Aunt Elaine’s sickbed Albus couldn’t talk at first. Mama smeared Ari with bruise salve and gave her some Calming Draught, and then she caught Albus and forced a potion down his throat. It burned, but afterwards Albus could look at her and try to explain.

The clock chimed while he was talking, and Albus fell silent. It was only three in the afternoon, not later like he had thought.

Mama said, “Stay here with Ari. Don’t move.”

No one disobeyed Mama when she talked like that. Albis sat beside Ari on the sofa; she looked very small, curled up like that under a rug.

Mama went outside; through the open window floated the command, “ _Rennervate!_ ”

Albus blinked, embarrassed; he should have remembered that. Like he should have remembered _Stupefy_. He was as stupid as his brother.

Mama came back in, looking even grimmer than before. She told Albus, “Use the Floo to call your father   Tell him you couldn’t reach me at the Manor, and that you need him home. Tell no one anything else.” She gave him a sip of Calming Draught, and Albus knelt before the fire again.

He said hoarsely, “Allen’s Apothecary…. Miss Benwick? Could you ask my papa to come home right now, please? Mama’s at Aunt Elaine’s, and I can’t reach her.”

Through the green flames, Miss Benwick’s eyes widened. “Albus! What on earth is the matter?”

Albus whispered, “Just ask Papa to come home now. Please?”

She bit her lip. “What? Of course, child….”   Her face vanished; no more than a minute later Papa stepped through the fire. He brushed at his robes, saying, “Miss Benwick seemed to think it was an emergency—Kendra? She said Al said he couldn’t reach you. What—”

Mama stepped forward and said, her voice flat, “Use Legilimency on me to save time.”

Papa gasped. Then he drew his wand and said, “ _Legilimens_ ,” his eyes locked on Mama’s. He swayed and turned as pale as Mama. After a moment he dropped his wand. Then he raised it again and turned to Albus. “Al… you seem to have done some rather powerful unintentional magic here. I need to examine exactly what you did so we can determine how to treat those Muggle boys and your sister. So I’m going to enter your mind now to look at your memory. Do you understand me?”

Albus nodded mutely. Papa said, “ _Legilimens,_ ” and the room vanished. Al was running again, and shouting in a surge of fury and fear, and the three boys fell under his wand…. And Ari was screaming and screaming, and he had to make her stop so he could think…

Then Papa’s hands were on his shoulder, holding him up. Papa thrust him at Mama. “A little more Calming Draught. And some for you, too, I think. I’ll look at the boys first.”

Even with the Calming Draught, Albus was shaking. He hunched on the sofa next to Ari, rocking himself a little, and Mama didn’t scold him for putting his feet on the furniture. In fact Mama was staring at the wall as though neither of them were even there.

Papa was outside for only a few minutes. When he came in, he moved slowly, and his face was grey. He said to Mama, “I tried Legilimency as well as some diagnostic charms. I doubt very much that they can be cured; this seems rather like the mindlessness that can occur after overexposure to the Cruciatus. Burned out.”

Mama’s lips got thinner, but she didn’t otherwise react except to ask, “And Ariana?”

“He didn’t use the same spell on her, thank Merlin, but the silencing was a mental imperative rather than a physical constraint, and with two inexpertly-cast Memory Charms on top of it… Let me examine her.”

Albus had seen Papa use diagnostic charms when he’d been allowed to visit Papa at work, but most of the ones he used today were unfamiliar. Papa ended by rousing Ari and making her look into his eyes while he cast _Legilimens_ again. Papa ended the spell and pulled Ari onto his lap; she sank back into sleep as he stroked her hair.

Papa said wearily to Mama, “I don’t know how to lift the silencing charm, but it should wear off on its own in several hours. There’s been some damage to her… to her continuity of thought. Only time will show how much.”

Mama said, “St. Mungo’s.”

“There’s very little Healers can do for such mental damage; an Acuity Draught which you can brew yourself, little more. And if we take her to St. Mungo’s, they will see that the damage is spell-induced. And then they will want to know who did it.”

Mama and Papa stared at each other. Then Mama said tightly, “In the Muggle world, most of this would count as self-defense and the rest as an accident. The other boys were trespassing and assaulting his sister, and he lost control. A child his age would not be held accountable. What is the legal situation in the Wizarding world?”

Papa’s face was white. “He lost control.”

Mama said nothing.

Papa said, “He violated the Statute of Secrecy in a manner that will be impossible to put right.”

Albus put his head down on his arms and shivered. He felt sick.

Papa said, “If they decide he did it because he’s incapable of controlling his magic under emotional stress, St. Mungo’s. Possibly under sedation. Possibly permanently. If they judge he was in his right mind, Azkaban. Anyone powerful enough to do permanent damage is accountable for obeying the law.”

Mama said, “No.”

Just that. Her voice was totally expressionless. When Albus peeked up at her, so was her face.

Papa looked at her. She held up Great-grandpapa’s wand in one hand, her own in the other, and met Papa’s eyes. Papa gazed at Mama for a long time. Finally she said, “I will not lose my child.”

Papa shut his eyes and shuddered. Then he opened them again and croaked, “No. I’ll do it. The apothecary knows when I was summoned home, whereas Elaine’s house elf will lie if need be. And you’re the stronger; you’ll be better able to hold the family together. Afterwards.”

Mama asked, “Can you?”

Papa said, “ _Prior Incantatem_ shows what is cast, not the caster’s... feelings.”

Papa laid Ari down on the sofa, rose, and went to Mama, pulling Great-grandpapa’s wand from her hand. Mama let him take it. They looked at each other for a minute. Papa looked sick; Mama looked like she had turned to stone.

Mama’s Muggle clock chimed the half hour, and Papa started. Mama rasped, “ _Priori Incantato,”_ touching her wand to Papa’s. There was a jumbled flow of images, mostly of Ari, the Muggle boys, Albus’s own frightened eyes…. then a cauldron at the Apothecary’s, being magically scoured. Mama nodded sharply at that last and said, “ _Deletrius._ ” All of the images vanished.

Papa turned and pulled Albus to his feet. “Come.”

 

Albus stumbled when he saw that they were heading towards the rose arbor. Papa pulled him along roughly.

Papa shivered when he looked at the Muggle boys. Then he pointed his wand and whispered, “ _Crucio_ ” three times. Each limp form twitched briefly.

Albus stared at Papa in horror.

Then Papa sheathed his own wand and drew Great-grandpapa’s.  

 

“ _Obliviate! Confundo…._ ”

 

*

 

Albus looked to right and left outside the gate, making sure no one was there to see him come out.

Why did he feel such dread?

He just had to find Abby before Mama got home, and then everything would be all right.

Ari would be all right alone for a little while.

 

Wouldn’t she?

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to Swythyv, who showed me (and many others) the holes in the Received Version of the story of that day as presented by Aberforth and Rita. I took it in a completely different direction from Swythyv. But I agree wholeheartedly with Swythyv’s main points: we were never told the truth, and the fact that Ariana was never examined by St. Mungo’s after the attack was indicative of something critically important.
> 
> I once said the Potterverse was more a horror universe than a fantasy one. I don’t like horror. I don’t usually read it. So it’s rather odd that I write it.


End file.
